Belle Of The Boulevard
by SydneyAustralia
Summary: Why did she have to tell him? Those stupid three words that he hadn't even said to his pregnant girlfriend? RB/NP NEW CHAPTER UP. FORGET EVERYTHING YOU'VE READ IN THE SEQUEL. THE SEQUEL IS DEAD. Long live Belle of the Boulevard.
1. Chapter 1

Rachel was running. She ran and she ran, down the darkened stretch of glittering highway. Her hair was loose down her back and she was wearing a ridiculously short black dress and a her heels had been discarded a half mile back. Her mascara and eyeliner streaked down her face and her lipstick smeared the back of her hand, when she'd attempted to scrub it off. Her bare feet were aching and bleeding on the soles but she didn't care. She just wanted to put as much distance as she could between her and that...that party.

Why had Finn asked her to go? Why did she dress up? Why did she have to tell him? Those stupid, three words that he hadn't even said to his pregnant girlfriend? Why did Quinn hear? Why did she and the Cheerios announce it to everybody? She was a... a laughing stock. A joke. A bigger one than before.

And suddenly, she wasn't running anymore. She was on the pavement, her skinned knees bleeding, and she was crying like a baby. Her pearl choker and shiny stack of silver bracelets were heavy and she tore them off, the opalescent little spheres popping off and spilling out around her. Her nails mocked her, a perfect french manicure in silver and red instead of white and light pink. Perfect, winking up at her. Be perfect.

A large diesel truck stopped beside her on the road, and she braced herself. Oh, God, what if it was some kind of kidnapper rapist? Why hadn't she brought her cell phone? But, lo and behold, it was a large football player with tanned skin and a dark mohawk. Noah "Puck" Puckerman. Thrower of slushies and footballs.

"Hey, Berry, get in," He called to her. She looked at him flatly.

"What, come here to tease me? Take me back so you can form a lynching mob? So what if I made the mistake of telling a boy that I loved him? So what? Why do you all hate me so much? I get it, I'm a loser, I'm a gleek, and I'm a stuck-up snob. So what? Why do you throw slushies at me, why do people leave horrid comments on my myspace videos, why does my house get egged every Sunday night?" She screamed at him. She was standing now, clutching her little hands into fists. He'd never seen her angry.

Blood streaked down her calves and a bit of it stained the concrete under her tanned, bare feet. "Hey, are you okay?' He asked concernedly. She glanced down without a care.

"I'm fine." Her tone was clipped.

"And to answer your question, I don't hate you." He left it at that, coming around the truck and grabbing her around the waist. He lifted her up into his truck, sitting her in the passenger seat and carefully clicking the seatbelt into place before ducking down and gathering her jewelry -what was left of it- off of the street and sitting it in her lap.

Her face was a mess of tear-streaks and make-up. He drove past Santana's house, where the party was, and kept driving. They ended up in front of a small two-story white house with a little white Camry parked in front. He came around again and lifted her with one hand, half-bridal style, and carried her up the three concrete steps, in case there was any broken glass or something that she could step on, and manuevered her into the house.

Quietly, he sat her down on his mattress upstairs and rummaged through the dresser, pulling out a white wifebeater and a pair of loose mesh shorts a few minutes later. "Why are you being nice to me?" Her voice was hoarse-ish and quiet.

"Because," He looked at her. "Finn is my boy, but he's an idiot. He let them do that to you. And I'm having a few issues with him, myself. And I don't like it when girls cry. And I don't think it's cool to let a midget girl run across town alone in the dark with all the weirdos out." He left for a few seconds and came back with a cool, wet washcloth. He knelt before her and gently took both of her legs, one at a time, into his rough, calloused hands, and cleaned up her knees carefully.

He passed her the clothes and moved to leave. "No, you can stay," She said softly, catching him by the elbow. He nodded, and she eased off her dress. He tried not to stare, but it was kind of hard not to. I mean, he was a seventeen year old boy with a beautiful girl standing in his room. In her dark blue, simply cut bra and panties. She pulled his clothes on and a piece of her long hair got messed up. He guided it back into place.

"Sorry," He muttered, a bit of blush staining his olive-toned cheeks. What was with him and his whole 'protector-mode' thing? He was starting to feel like that stalker-y vampire guy from that movie that all the chicks at school liked. Edwin? Edmund? Something like that. He'd seen that with one of the Cheerios, and hadn't even gotten a peck or a touch the whole movie.

"It's okay," She seemed a little taken aback. "Um, thank you, Puck."

"You're welcome, Berry," He passed her the little soft bundle of her clothes and sheepishly held out something that he'd kept hidden in his pockets. A little pair of black strappy heels. "Found 'em on the sidewalk," He explained. She gently hooked them on and he guided her out to the truck again. He drove her home, and she got out. When she was on the sidewalk, she looked back.

"Well, bye Puck," She said timidly.

"Noah," He said suddenly, when she'd half turned away.

"Huh?"

"You can call me Noah." And with a quick flash of her Crest-white smile, she had whisked away into the house, leaving him dazed and wondering what the heck had possessed him to do this. Her whole hypnotic-shiny vibe? Maybe. Her big, soft Bambi eyes? Really possible. The slender, soft, lithe form under her black silk dress? Again, really really thinking that was the answer. Or maybe, that she'd been discarded by Finn like he'd been tossed away by Quinn. Bingo.

**End Chapter One of **_**Belle Of The Boulevard.**_

**A/N: So, if you haven't heard the Dashboard Confessional song 'Belle of the Boulevard', I really think you should. It's my inspiration to this fic. I really love the Rachel/Puck pairing, and if he seemed a little OOC to you, it's supposed to SEEM like that. Next chapter you'll kind of figure out what prompted the whole Edward-Cullen fest. Like my Twilight reference? I never really did have my use for Edward. **

**Next chapter'll be out soon. It's gonna be called Jersey. **


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel wondered, when, exactly, it stopped being Finn in her dreams and started being Noah. She also wondered when her fantasy dreams stopped being making out in a big field of sunflowers and alternated from making out in the back of a big diesel truck and making out in a black-and-white Dracula-esque gothic bedroom on a one-armed chaise lounge, a 20s glamour gown holding tight to her hips and a half-veil over her face. Guess that's one of the things that happens when your totally crushing on a mohawked, mysterious, totally sexyfied football player. Emphasis on the 'player'.

But, hey, he was hot. And suddenly all protective of her and nice and she'd never denied the attraction there. It had been just starting when he'd found her after the party. So she decided -rather stupidly, she admits now- to 'reward' his struggling kindness with a show of her Victoria's Secret purchases. I mean, she really didn't regret it now, nearly a month later. Well, she kinda did, but for different reasons. After the whole baby bombshelll today at lunch with her finding out about Quinn lying to Finn about him being the father and Noah being the father and then Mr. Schue finding out that his wife is a total psycho, there was no Glee to discuss with and there was no asking Noah about the baby.

Of course, she couldn't deny that they had become friends. And she couldn't deny that she was totally wanting to jump him. In the janitor's closet. Or the Spanish room. Or on top of a piano in the middle of glee practice. But, hey, it was Noah Puckerman. Everybody thought that, right? Right? Her head felt all jumbled. And she didn't think that she wanted to be with Finn anymore. She ran a hand through her hair and stood up, going to her full-length mirror. She still hadn't returned Noah's clothes. And tonight her bright red bra shone through the thin white fabric of the wifebeater and her red panties peeked out underneath. And she ran a brush through her hair. And then her laptop beeped.

It was Puck. Did she really want to talk to him? He had a baby, for God's sake. But, did it really matter? She kind of liked him. And the baby didn't have to affect anything. Right? So she picked her laptop up and opened up an IM window.

**Puck#22: hey. u ok?**

**BerryStar: should be askin u.**

**Puck#22: u mad? i shoulda told u.**

**BerryStar: ur business. im not mad.**

**Puck#22: Q sez she doesnt want me 2 help. or be wit her.**

**BerryStar: shes a fool.**

**Puck#22: prob.**

**BerryStar: i never gave ur shirt back.**

**Puck#22: even trade. i saw ur bra.**

**BerryStar: it was an expirement.**

**Puck#22: 2 see if i would jump u?**

**BerryStar: u can be so dense.**

**BerryStar: i gtg.**

**Puck#22: ??**

**Puck#22: Rach?**

**Puck#22: do i offend?**

_**BerryStar is offline. Any messages will not be recieved immediately.**_

Puck furrowed his eyebrows and got up, shrugging into his letterman and grabbing his car keys before sneaking out past his sister's room and telling his mother -who was laying on the couch and watching Devil's Arithmatic weepily- that he was going out and would be back later. And then, thirty minutes later, he was throwing pebbles at Rachel Berry's window while trying not to attract too much attention.

**A/N: Finally. Probably not that good, and it's not long at all. One of my reviews was all not getting why she let him see her change, and she was testing him to see if he'd be a gentleman or not. That wasn't clear in the last chapter, sorry. So, as always, I'm Sydney, and this has been Belle of the Boulevard, Chapter Two: Jersey. Next chapter is called All Wound Up, for the sexyfied She Wants Revenge song. Listen to it, if you can, and hopefully it will get you all excited about the next chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3

Rachel's head flashed to the side as she heard that sound. A scraping sound at her window. She got up, opening her window and leaning out, ready to yell at any tresspassers. And then she saw the mohawk and familiar football jacket.

"Puck?" She hissed in confusion. "What are you doing here?" He looked a little out of breath, as if he'd been running.

"I made you mad on our IM, I wanted to come and apologize!" He called up to her.

"Noah Puckerman, my dads were calling me downstairs! I clearly told you in the vernacular of today's society that I had to leave!" She replied, quite miffed that he'd automatically assume she was mad.

"Wait, so you're NOT mad?" He asked in confusion.

"Yes, that is what I just specified for you!"

"Rach, calm your thesauraus speak down for a few! You're making this unneccesarily difficult.

"Fine! I'm not mad at you, Noah," She said, gentler this time. And then his -extremely fit- body was scaling the trellis and she backed up so that he could swing himself into her bright pink bedroom. Her eyes were slightly widened and before he turned around she checked out his toned, denim-clad rear.

And sighed like a schoolgirl. Well, she was a schoolgirl, so she just sighed like as was atypical for girls her age. And then she was extremely aware that she was in her bedroom with a _boy. _And extremely...hot... boy, excuse her cliched term.

"Rachel, did you mean what you said?" His voice sounded, and she was suddenly confronted with his angel's face.

"Huh?" _Who's Rachel? _She recovered then. "Yes, I did mean that I didn't mind that you fathered Quinn's child out of wedlock," She replied diplomatically.

"Really?" He was closer to her now and she could see the outline of his ridiculous (sexy) nipple ring through his tight white tee shirt. Sweet Judah. What she did next she would later defend as being influenced by a lack of sleep, Noah's overall sex appeal, and the bombard of sexual images in the media today.

Rachel Berry pounced.

**Alright, there we have it. All Wound Up, Belle of the Boulevard, Chapter Three. Again, sorry for not reviewing sooner. And here we have a classic case of Puckleberry: Puck being as sexed up as Custom and Rachel being Rachel. **

** Love you all, in a platonic way (unless we have Mark Sallin in our presence) and this has been Sydney for Glee. (I don't own anything, babydolls) **


	4. The Church Of Hot Addiction

**Chapter Four  
The Church of Hot Addiction  
(A song by Cobra Starship)**

Rachel tangled her arms and legs around Noah then, with such force that the mohawked young man crashed against the window and blinds, causing a loud crash, ignored by the offending girl, but not her two fathers, located downstairs before her pounce and runnning up the stairs after the crash caused by it.

So they burst in to find their nearly seventeen-year-old daughter latched onto Noah Puckerman, whose eyes were wide open and incredulous at her antics, in her twelve-year-old-decorated pink Laura-Ashley catalog bedroom.

"Rachel?" Both exclaimed simultaneously, causing the aforementioned brunette to literally fall to the floor, hair sprawled behind her head and white wifebeater skewed up around her stomach, a fierce blush on her tan face.

"Uh, hi Dad, Daddy," She stammered out, looking at her fathers and mentally cursing Puck and his sex appeal.

"What on Earth is the meaning of this?" Her black dad, Micheal, exclaimed. His husband, Paul, shot Puck a glare.

"Uh-" Puck began, before Rachel cut him off.

"We were practicing a number for glee club, Daddy," She explained calmly. "We had to do a heel-ball-change, then a lift, and then a stage kiss, but I hit the opening leap wrong and knocked us over, causing our stage kiss to become an actual kiss." She lied expertly, as a good actress should be able to do.

Puck could only nod like he knew what the heck she was even talking about. Her fathers looked appeased. Before remembering that they didn't know Puck was even in their home.

"Well, when did he get here, Rachel sweetie?" Paul asked, trying to stop glaring hostily at their 'guest'.

"Um, fifteen minutes ago, I suppose. He rang the bell? And I told you he'd be coming over here earlier. Don't you remember?" She asked, mock-confused.

"Ah, I remember now. So, are you going to introduce your friend?" Micheal nodded, seeming to buy the lie. Getting up and straightening her denim shorts and wifebeater, she gestured to Puck.

"Noah Puckerman, this is my Dad, Paul, and my Daddy, Micheal. Dad, Daddy, this is Noah. He is a junior at my school, he goes to the East Lima Synagouge, has a younger sister, Abby, and his mother is a nurse." She clued them in, putting emphasis on the fact that he was Jewish.

"East Lima Synagouge? That's a good temple, son." Micheal nods, shaking Noah's hand and nodding. Noah simply grunted in assention and tried not to think about what Rachel had just done. And failed miserably. What was this, the nature channel? She'd leapt on him like a lioness on a gazelle. Or, a gazelle on a lion.

All in all, it was hot. He shot a little smirky look at the brunette girl and she flushed crimson as her dads left and said that he had to leave in a half-hour. And they closed the door. So Puck decided that he was going to be the one to break the silence.

"So, Rach, how long exactly have you been planning to molest me?"

**Alrighty, fanfictioneers, that was chapter four of Belle of the Boulevard. Please review and make me happy, and you'll have even more Puckleberry sexiness. I might even throw a T-rated shower scene or car wash in there for you. Just saying. **


	5. I Don't Care

**Chapter Five  
I Don't Care  
(A Song By Fall Out Boy)**

**A/N: The specific inspiration for this particular chapter happens to come from a single line: **_**Say my name and his in the same breath, I dare you to say they taste the same. **_**So keep that in mind and enjoy. **

**Lima, Ohio  
2007**

Noah Puckerman was stretched out like the sex god he was on a chair in the lunchroom, surveying all of the hot freshman girls fresh from their first third period classes while sipping at a cherry slushie. At the moment, his eyes were glued to a dark-haired, tan skinned girl wearing the ittiest, bittiest skirt he'd ever seen in this hick-hole called McKinley High.

And to top it off, a white tee shirt and a pair of white thigh-high stockings with black heels. What was she, some kind of fantasy? Was he still hallucinating from the pot he'd had last week? He didn't think so. He watched her, stared at her chest openly, and then before he knew what he was doing he was up and walking towards her.

She looked a little frightened at the sight of him- large, muscular, with a tight, tight red shirt and a lush head of dark hair. He tossed his drink at her then, staring blatantly at the now see-through material and the black bra shining through. She let out a high pitched scream, and then everyone in the cafeteria was laughing. A few of the seniors were clapping him on the back as she ran out of the cafeteria, congratulating him for 'dousing the freak girl'.

Noah just realized that he'd done something horrible and that he was getting rewarded for it. And he just grinned a fake grin and pretended that he hadn't done it because he wanted to get into her pants. He was a badass now.

**Lima, Ohio  
2010**

Rachel walked into the locker room as a woman on a mission. Her arms swung at her sides and her heels clicked an intimidating 'click' every time she took a step, a click that echoed through the room. She heard the showers and knew that he would be the only one in there. He always stayed an extra hour on Fridays to run. It was 6:30 p.m. and she crept into the showers silently, slipping off her shoes.

He's there, of course. She's eerily right in that aspect at least- she always has a feel for where he'll be. It's like a GPS system, though not as accurate. She stares openly at him for a few minutes, because his back is to her and he's not noticed her yet. His skin, completely muscle and tanned all over, is covered in beads of water and she has to physically pinch the skin of her own arm to stop herself from going after him.

"Noah Puckerman," She deadpans, her voice echoing. He jumps, curses, drops his soap bar, and then turns around. In that order.

"Rachel?" He exclaims, a little shocked and a little turned on. She keeps her eyes firmly on his, clenching her fists at her sides.

"Noah Puckerman, it has come to my attention that there is a rumor going around school that you and I have had sexual intercourse!" She actually stomps her foot at this, and props her fists on her hips. "And as you and I both know that that is a complete and utter lie, I want it stopped before I sue the entire student body of William McKinley High School for slander and deformation of character!"

He chuckles, perfectly content and unashamed to stand in front of her naked, and grabs his towel while simultaneously turning off the water. Wrapping the white fabric around his perfectly sculpted hips, the pale material contrasting beautifully with his olive-toned skin, Rachel noted faintly, he walks past her.

"Deformation of character, Berry? Really? Because I've slept with my share of women and they've never seen it that way," He's in 'Puck-Mode' now, and it's really grating on her nerves.

"Quit acting like God's gift to sex and be yourself, Noah!" She shrieks, throwing the nearest thing at arm's reach right at his face. It happens to be a… well, 'athletic support'. Rachel coughs, trying to disguise her hysteria as Puck looks at the sweaty thing on his face and then flings it away with the loudest, longest stream of cusses she's ever heard, but that's okay because she's on the ground, practically rolling around while she laughs hysterically.

He's dashed back to the showers, reappearing five minutes later, face pink from scrubbing. He's spluttering slightly at the sight of her and then he's just staring at her slightly flushed face, huge grin, and tousled hair. If he didn't know that she was in "Rachel-Berry-Freak-Out-Mode" he'd swear that this was the girl he'd fallen in love with, sometime during the disaster they'd called a relationship.

And then he realizes that a freaking out Rachel Berry and a laughing Rachel Berry are one entity and that he also loves the freaking out Rachel, just as much as laughing Rachel. It kind of gives him a headache. And it makes Puck beat Noah with a manly-looking shovel in the middle of a manly-looking desert inside of his head.

Whoops. He coughs, a twinge of pain between his eyebrows, and sees that Rachel has ceased her laughing Tourettes-like fit and is staring at him with her big brown eyes. "Noah, I am serious about you stopping this rumor,"

"I've not been saying anything, Rach. I don't BS when it comes to sex. I'm a sex god, after all. I have no need to," the sentence is a strange mixture of Puck and Noah and its like they're one entity too, which confuses him even more. He may not be stupid, but when it comes to this psychology crap, he's as dumb as a rock. No, worse. As dumb as Finn.

"Well, obviously you haven't said anything!" She exclaims. "It's Jacob Ben-Israel. And since you're apparently the one supposed to defend my honor and protect my virtue," At this, Puck laughs darkly and sexily and Noah is happy that she thinks of him that way. "I need you to make him stop,"

"Well, you need me for everything Berry, why should this be any difference?" He's all Puck now, and she nearly cries.

"Fine! I'll just go… talk to Finn! I'm sure he'd be more than happy to be enough of a man to get Jacob Ben-Israel off of my back!" And then Noah is fuming and before he knows what he's doing, he's got her pinned up against the tiled locker room walls, eyes locked on hers.

His lips crash against her own soft, feminine ones and he kisses her aggressively, mouth trailing down to suck on the crook of her neck, leaving a dark, purpled hickey in his wake on the skin there before moving up to speak in her ear.

"Tell me that you don't want me, then," His breath is hot and his hands are wandering. She lets out a little mewl, not at all Berry right now, just Rachel. "Tell me that you feel about Finn the way you feel about me," Another breathy, needy noise escapes her. "I dare you,"

"I can't lie to you," She whispers, and grabs his face, yanking him to her. His hands are almost too-tight and it's so good that she feels like if they stop it will physically hurt her. She's trembling and he's quivering slightly, from the strain of running for two hours and practicing being tackled to the ground and the effort of holding her up is making his muscles burn, but God knows that he doesn't care.

Because they're both some kind of messed up approximation of their two personalities- the ones they are in front of people, Berry and Puck, and the ones they're like in front of each other, Rachel and Noah.

But really, when has that mattered when there are teenage feelings and raging hormones involved?

**A/N: Oh, things got a little hot there. R+R, please, I love getting reviews. They make me almost as happy as cherry/lemon slushies do. this chapter was kind of Angst/Humor, like I intend the story to be, and a little bit of sexy time Puckleberry for my reviewers.**

** Sydney Australia **


	6. I'm Not Your Boyfriend, Baby

**Glee Club Starlet Getting Dirty In Football Showers**

**Jacob Ben-Israel**

_**This reporter was witness to Glee Club lead Rachel Hannah Berry engaging in a steamy make-out session with resident bad-boy Left Tackle Noah "Puck" Puckerman in the football team's shower area. **_

_**Puck is notorious for his role as "baby daddy" in the Quinn Fabray pregnancy scandal, and Rachel Berry does not seem to be aware of that fact or perhaps she does not care. All this reporter can be sure of is that Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman are now an item to be watched in the McKinley High scene. **_

Rachel let out a loud huff and crumpled up her school newspaper, the color photograph of her pinned to the tiled locker room wall, conveniently right under the large painted Titan, disappearing into the trash can. Honestly. The picture looked like a snapshot from a porno or something, with the way her legs were wrapped around Noah's waist and her dark hair was spilled out around them.

She held her head high and walked down the hall, intent on finding Noah to see if he wanted to grab a quick breakfast during the free period they had second. She rounded the corner and looked to his locker. He was there, oh yes, but he wasn't alone. Pressed against his chest and his locker was the dark-haired Santana, their lips glued together.

"What the _hell_?!" Slipped from her mouth loudly before she really consciously decided to speak, but she certainly wasn't taking it back. The kissing pair broke apart and Noah's face wasn't even shocked or apologetic. Rachel saw red. Looking around, she grabbed the slushie from a bystander's hands and threw it with perfect aim right into the offending duo's faces.

And, in true Rachel Berry fashion, she flipped her hair and turned on her heel (her platform, deadly looking heels) before sauntering back down the hall as quickly as possible without running.

She threw the door to the choir room open and locked it behind her, sliding down the wooden door and burying her face in her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. She really thought he'd changed.

**A/N: Oh my God! What's happening? Why is Noah snogging Santana? What is gonna happen? - Questions my dear Puckleberry readers are probably asking. The answer I can give you: wait for the next chapter, which features a makeover, hot pants, Molly Makeout, and an unexpected kiss. **

**Like, really unexpected. **


	7. Molly MakeoutStacey's Mom

**Chapter Seven  
Molly Makeout/Stacey's Mom**

Rachel was startled out of her crying by a knocking at the door. "Rach? It's Mercedes… Listen, girl, I've got Kurt and Tina and Britt with me… please open the door?" Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffling, she stood shakily and opened the doors. Immediately she was swarmed by the four, hands on her back, in her hair and chafing her upper arms comfortingly.

"I can't believe he did that!" Mercedes was hollering out. "Ima kick some white boy ass!"

"T-t-totally!" Tina exclaimed indignantly, looking severely enraged for her friend.

"Why would he do that?" Rachel choked out. "I mean… we weren't official or anything… but I thought," And then she was crying again.

"And I thought that San was dating Matt!" Brittany mused, trying to remember if they'd broken up or what.

"I think that drastic measures need to be taken. I've been preparing for months for this. Rachel, come with us." Kurt deadpanned, taking hold of the shorter girl's arm and towing her out into the now-empty hallway, to his locker, where there was a sequined Juicy bag neatly stowed. And he picked that sequined silk handbag and escorted her to the girls' bathroom, locking it behind them with the reasoning that 'it's a surprise. For everyone'

Plugging in a tiny flat iron and unrolling a few garment bags, Kurt got to work. Telling the singing diva girl to hop up onto the sink's counters (which she does easily) he begins to unzip the bags, revealing several pieces of the outfit he compiled with Rachel Berry in mind.

Little tiny black hot pants/shorts, a ruffled white silk blouse tucked into said high-waisted shorts, a super-thin white leather belt in the loops of that perfection of a pair of bottoms, and a pair of white and black strappy five-inch heels with little white bows adorning the open toes.

Rachel has no idea why he had that in his locker, but she can't bring herself to care a teeny bit as she's shuffled into the handicapped stall to change into that outfit that manages to scream "SEX" and "RACHEL BERRY" without being hooker-librarian chic.

She could practically kiss Kurt. But she really doesn't want to push her luck. When she walks back out to look at herself in the mirror, a wide smile spreads across her face. Before she can say a word of thanks, Kurt snaps his fingers sharply. "Now, Rachel, it's time for the hair and makeup portion of your makeover. And not a word, darling, you abandoning your Finn effort is enough of a reward for me."

So this time she really does kiss the effeminate, homosexual boy. Puckered lips on his cheek, like one might kiss their parents or cousins. When she pulls away Kurt has wide eyes. "Please," He begins quietly. "Never. Ever. Do. That. Again." She giggles, hopping back up so he can do her hair, and nods in assent.

When he's finished flat-ironing and pinning her hair atop her head in a dancer's knot with newly-cut fringe bangs free and hiding one of her large, eyeliner-rimmed eyes from view, it's lunchtime. They've been 'at work' for nearly twenty minutes. Walking out on Kurt's arm, Rachel is two inches taller than him on her deadly stilettos.

Tina's jaw drops, Mercedes swears, and Brittney walks forward to circle around the girl like a shark. When she's satisfied that yes, this sexified version of Rachel Berry is not a Stepford Wife, she loops an arm through the girl's companionably and they walk to the cafeteria.

Her heels are clacking and the sound reminds her of two days ago when she daringly walked into the locker room to confront Noah. And then she shakes herself, plasters on a small smirking smile, and hears Kurt murmur a few words.

"Operation: Stacey's Mom has been commenced." The boy announces to their group, and Rachel sends him a confused look. "You know, the song about the cougar? We thought it was appropriate, considering Puck's past with the mothers of the town."

Her eyes widen and she looks at Brittney. "At least I don't have a Mom," She mutters to the blonde girl, who booms out a laugh seemingly too loud for someone so small. "Yeah, I'm not that lucky," The girl chokes out between laughs. And suddenly Rachel's laughing too as they're walking into the cafeteria and all eyes are on them.

And she feels like Rachel 2.0, the girl she'd always wanted to be. Hot, watched, wanted, and scheming. She sees Puck at the Cheerio/Football table and he's gaping. Absolutely gaping. She tries not to remember this morning's 'sexcapade' with Santana. She's glad to see that the Latina had had to change out of her Cheerio uniform and into a pair of gym shorts and a tank top.

Puck had just pulled on his football jersey instead of his tight white shirt. She puts an extra sway into her hips and follows her friends to the Glee table, sitting and whispering with who appeared to be her new 'BFF', Brittney.

There were two new additions to the table, but Artie explained that they were from the Music and Art departments and were temporarily put into their lunch and had nowhere else to sit. They mostly kept to themselves, but the blonde (there was a rail-thin brunette and curvaceous blonde) was loud and spoke avidly, waving her ink-stained hands around.

Rachel, in an attempt to keep her eyes off of Puck and still look nonchalant, focused on the pair of friends as they talked aimlessly about anything and everything and things that didn't make sense.

Of course, she should have known that Puck's green-eyed gaze was too irresistible to avoid. She jumped as she felt her phone vibrate in her hand. **Ur lookin hot. Meet me in the lckr room?**

Oh, she'd meet him in the locker room, all right. And she'd give him the worst verbal lashing he'd ever received. Excusing herself, she hurried off to the field house and, subsequently, the football players' locker room. Noah was already there.

She was bristling at the smirk on his lips. "Noah Elijah Puckerman!" She shrilled out, stomping her high-heeled foot. "Even though I realize that we made no other commitments to each other besides our various clandestine kissing sessions, that gives you no go ahead to… MAKE OUT WITH THAT SLUT SANTANA LOPEZ IN PLAIN SIGHT OF EVERYONE!" She burst out, stalking towards him and punctuating each word with a slap to his chest.

When he grabbed her wrists, gently, his eyes were blazing in anger.

**A/N: Twice in one night, baby! **


	8. Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have

**Belle Of The Boulevard  
Chapter Eight:**

**Lying is the Most Fun A Girl Can Have  
(Without Taking Off Her Clothes)**

When she was a little girl, Rachel Berry used to dream about three things. One, Broadway. Two, fame. Three, her Prince Charming. It was a silly little fantasy that every little girl has, one where they imagine the quarterback falling in love with them and taking them to prom and then graduating and getting married and having babies. And when she met Finn, she shoved him into that role. But, like a mismatched puzzle piece, he didn't fit without shoving and remolding.

When she met Puck, really met him, and he became Noah, it had not crossed her mind that he could be her Prince. Because, really, Mohawks and slushie-throwing and cougar chasing boys weren't really what she had in mind when she thought up the perfect boy.

But now, with him glowering at her with liquid green eyes and super-dilated pupils, the only thing that came to mind was how much she was… attracted to him. Not just attracted to Puck, but in love with Noah. _Now_, she thought to herself, _was that so hard to admit? _

So when he didn't pull her forward and ravage her mouth, she was a little confused. "Pu-Noah?" She managed, her voice weak sounding. Maybe she wasn't Rachel 2.0, after all.

"Berry, listen up and listen good." His voice was rough and low and kind of shaking in anger. "I did that shit with Santana in the hallway because _you told me to. _You said to 'dispel' those rumors about you. I did. Nobody is gonna say anything about you, except maybe that you're hot or you throw a mean slushie."

Her face flushed then, and bit her lip, contemplating. "So… you kissed the she-devil for me?" He took her face in his hands.

"Baby, now that I got you, I'm not gonna mess it up by making up with that vengeful skank," She snorted at that, before the 'I got you' sank in fully. And then she stared at him with huge, watery brown eyes.

"Does that mean what I think it means, Noah?" She asked, barely daring to breathe. A smirk broke out on his face and he pulled her closer, up against his hard chest.

"You bet," He dropped a kiss on the underside of her jaw, and she felt his body shake with a laugh. "I mean, we're a couple of hot Jews. It's natural, babe." He quoted himself from when they had that disastrous 'relationship', making her laugh, too.

"And Noah, before you ask?" He quirked an eyebrow, slightly confused. "You are allowed to touch my breasts this time," She whispered tantalizingly. He swore, and then she burst out into laughter.

"You tease," He sighed, shaking his head like '_I don't know why you torture me so.'_

"Hm," She simpered, shrugging, and then stood straight, her heels bringing her up so that her eyes were level with his full, pink lips. "Um, how do we tell Finn about this?" She asked, furrowing her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. He sighed.

"How about we not talk about my baby mama's boyfriend?" He suggested, coyly backing her up to the same wall that she'd previously been photographed against. "You know, Rach, I really did like that picture of you in the newspaper…" and he kissed her to prevent her asking anymore questions about his motives for kissing Santana and so that she wouldn't probe his lie anymore.

**A/N: My pretties, I hope this is to your satisfaction. I will give you hints to the next chapter: **_**REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA! **_**Will have a song featured (think a drug, think your body, think Zydrate Anatomy) there will be a challenge issued by Mr. Schue, and there will be a therapy session. **


	9. Dancing With Tears In My Eyes

**Chapter Nine  
Dancing With Tears In My Eyes**

Rachel took a determined swig of the bottle of Gray Goose in her hands and rejoined the party. Everyone was dancing hyperactively and she joined in. For once, she was at a party and she wasn't crazy gold-star Rachel Berry.

She was just a drunk brunette with a teeny tiny shimmery dress and a pair of thigh-highs. She spotted pregnant Quinn looking sour on the couch next to a sober Finn. Both looked miserable watching everyone drink and grind. Rachel allowed herself a laugh while she took another swig and ground her backside into a hockey player.

The room was kind of spinning but she didn't care. Another few gulps and she couldn't remember whose house this was. But it was gonna be alright. It wasn't until she was stumbling and giggling into a closet with some guy, kissing and groping, that she thought of Puck. But quickly dismissed that thought.

The guy's hand was feeling around on her chest and then the door swung open and a flash of dark hair whisked her away, towing her into the kitchen again. She was confused and nauseous. The brunette blur was talking.

"I can't believe you… drunk on Gray Goose for the love of God? Who are you, Paris Hilton?"

"No, I'm just heartbroken," She slurred out, leaning heavily on the blur.

"What did Puck do this time?"

"He… huh… I'm pretty sure that he slept with three cougars and two Cheerios in the course of a week…" Rachel muttered. "Or maybe it was two cougars and three Cheerios… and then he said that he loves me…"

_Two Days Earlier_

"Well, guys, even though our last little in-house competition didn't go over too well, I think we should try again. So this time I'm pairing you guys up, boy girl, for duets!" Several people cheered –Rachel Berry obviously one of them.

"I'm gonna read out your partners and then I'm gonna ask what song you guys want to perform." Rachel beamed and took Puck's hand. They had made up and were together again. Or, well, now they were together.

"Quinn and Finn?" There was whispering and hissing between the two and finally Quinn Fabray, with a sugary ice-queen smile on her face, answered. "You're The One That I Want, from Grease," And casting an imperious look at Rachel, she giggled.

Rachel wasn't even fazed, or if she was, she didn't show it. "Santana and Matt?"

"Uh, how bout a Stud and a Babe from I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change?" Matt asked. Mr. Schue laughed.

"Going for irony there?" Santana beamed her impress-teacher grin.

"Yes, sir!"

"Alright. Brittany and Mike?"

"Oh! How bout something from the Whorehouse musical!?" Brittany exclaimed eagerly, earning strange looks all around. Mike shrugged. "As long as I can add my popping,"

"Uh, so, how about Sneakin' Around, guys?"

"But… Mr. Schue, Mike's Asian, but he's not a ninja…" Brittany interjected cluelessly.

"Okay… Artie and Tina?"

"What Did I E-Ever See In H-Him from B-Bye-Bye Birdie," Tina stuttered out softly. Will smiled kindly. "Alright, Mercedes and Kurt,"

"Class, from Chicago," Kurt snapped out.

"Kurt… that's a duet for two girls… Never mind…" Mr. Schuester said, remembering the whole 'Defying Gravity' debacle. "Alright, last but certainly not least, Rachel and Puck," Smiling brightly, Rachel was about to answer 'Music of the Night' when Puck's voice drawled out his answer.

"Zydrate Anatomy from _Repo!_" He smirked. Rachel fell silent, considering this song. It was oversexed, definitely, but it had some good female vocals and Noah's voice really would go great with it.

_One Day Later_

Rachel stood in Puck's room, staring at that offending garment on his floor. She moved to sit on his bed, but then stopped and kept still when she considered what might have gone on there. A pair of underwear, red ones emblazoned with 'WMHS' on the back in white, were carelessly discarded like someone had stepped out of them in the heat of the moment.

Rachel closed her eyes tightly, her little hands clenching into little white-knuckled fists. "Hey, Baby, I got us some water… what's up?" He actually sounded concerned. She stepped to the side to give him a clear view of those… wretched things.

"Oh,"

"Oh?" Rachel echoed, furious. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt, Noah! I trusted you! And you've… you've slept with someone else? Is this the only indiscretion or are there others? Answer me, Noah!" She shrilled out, her voice breaking on several occasions.

"No," His voice was quiet, resigned. "No, it's not,"

"Oh," Rachel repeated, suddenly feeling very young. "I'm… I'm going home." And with that Rachel 2.0 walked mechanically out to her little purple Prius and drove home. Mechanically, she walked inside. And then, in her large foyer under the soft, pleasant light of the mini-chandelier, she wept. She seemed to be doing a lot of crying lately.

Especially when Noah had run after her, shouting for her to come back. "I love you, baby!"

_Present_

"I don't care where you are! Get your cheating bastard ass up here and pick us up! Your girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever is totally wasted and she's a mess and it's all your fault!" The brunette blur shouted into her little shiny phone. Rachel stared off into space.

Half an hour later they were in Puck's truck and she had her head between her knees, trying her hardest not to puke all over the upholstery, no matter how much satisfaction she would take from that act.

She found out that the dark-haired blur was Santana. And that Santana knew how to distinguish different alcohols from their scent. And that Santana was not currently sleeping with Noah. All three of those things brought the Cheerio up to about an 8 ½ on the Rachel Berry scale. They dropped the girl off at her house and she was alone with Noah.

She didn't want to be alone with him. The car ride went past in silence. And then Noah got out of the truck and walked over to wrap his arms around Rachel. She protested, loudly, and he let her down. She proceeded then to fall over into a bush. So then she grudgingly consented to being carried.

By the time they were upstairs in her pink bedroom, she was wide eyed. As soon as he let her down she stumbled to her en suite bathroom and bowed down to the porcelain bowl. Puck winced as he heard the noises of the girl he loved (he really did love her, damn it) being violently ill with the door locked and the firm belief that he was the incarnation of pure evil.

When she finally came out of the bathroom she looked ashen, shaky, drunk, and sad. Not a good combination. He followed her to her big canopy bed and lay down next to her. He was surprised when she didn't shove him away. He was shocked when she rolled over to face him, reaching a curious hand up to play with the silky hair of his Mohawk.

She sighed suddenly. "I love you too, you know," She slurred out, yawning. And before he could say a word the hand stroking his hair slid down sluggishly to his neck and she was asleep. She wouldn't remember a thing in the morning. Pulling off her dangerous-looking heels and studiously ignoring the cheap cologne that pervaded through the scent of alcohol, he tucked her into bed with a kiss on the forehead.

As a foresight, he left a bottle of water and a few Advil on the nightstand and locked the front door behind himself.


	10. Help, I'm Alive

**Chapter 10  
Help, I'm Alive**

"There's something wrong with me!" Noah "Puck" Puckerman exclaimed as he slammed into Ms. Pillsbury's office. The redhead looked up, startled. She hadn't even known that Noah Puckerman went to _class, _much less barged into her office claiming that he had a problem. Admitting that he had a problem.

"Alright, Mr. Puckerman," Emma began, trying to keep the shock from her voice. "What seems to be the problem? Too many friends on My-"

"I'm in love with Rachel Berry!"

To this, Emma had nothing to say. She simply stared at him, wide-eyed. Wasn't this the boy who slushied Rachel every day? And who had numerous sexual relationships with practically every girl in school and most of the women in town?

"And I'm in love with her but I've had sex with five different girls in the past week even though I am…was… dating her!"

"Er-" Emma began again, before he cut her off again.

"And I can't be in love with her! I mean, I'm a Puckerman! The Puckerman men don't bring nothing but bad to women's lives! My old man, he was the worst!" Now Puck seemed livid, pacing back and forth and gesticulating angrily.

"Well-"

"And then she comes to my house and she finds that one Cheerios' underwear- Stacy, Cindy, something like that- and she got all mad and broke up with me and I told her… I yelled that I loved her and then she was drunk and she said it back and..."

"How about you-"

"I have to win her back!"

"Mr. Puckerman-"

"Yeah, that's it! I'll do something totally good and I'll win her back!"

"MR. PUCKERMAN!" Emma finally thundered in her normally-ash-soft voice. This had the tall football player looking at her in astonishment and falling silent. He sat down meekly in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

"Now, it sounds like you use sex as a mechanism to keep yourself and others 'safe' from your perceived 'evil'," Emma began sweetly.


	11. Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

**Chapter Eleven  
Are You Gonna Be My Girl?**

Tanned hands reach behind to pull up the zipper of her dress, hiding lingerie from view.

Large calloused hands button a white dress shirt and tuck it into sharp black pants.

Nimble fingers tuck a stray hair back into place and then spray the hairspray to hold it there.

The stripe of thick hair down his scalp glints in the light and a practice grin is given to the mirror, crest-white strip smile against an olive-toned face.

Her sparkling gold mermaid-style dress reminds her of the gold stars she puts everywhere.

This tux makes him look even more like the stud he is, he muses, as he catches his reflection in turned-off TV.

Her Dad and Daddy insist on taking dozens of pictures.

His Ma cries when she sees him, exclaiming about how 'handsome he is' and asks why doesn't he take a nice Jewish girl to the prom.

She gets into Kurt's big black car with the help of Mike Chang, who gallantly doesn't look when her cleavage falls out of the top of her dress (well, not a lot, anyways) and doesn't laugh at her for it (unlike Kurt and Mercedes).

He drives his big diesel truck. It's been a while since he's been alone in it- he imagines for a second that it still smells like her perfume.

She walks into prom with her head held high and her hips swaying under the impeccable fabric covering her body. She and Kurt have either of Mercedes' arms. The aforementioned lady of sass is wearing a bright white gown that contrasts perfectly with her chocolate skin.

He meets his, uh, his _date _(a girl that Kurt sent over to be his decoy-date to help him with the Rachel situation) who is frankly pretty hot, but not in the "I'd tap that" way. Well, he probably would, but she's just kind of like Tinker Bell, dude. You don't tap Disney princesses. Unless it was that one Pocahontas chick. She was pretty hot, getting stoned and talking to trees and all that shit. Plus, she kind of looked like Rachel. Only, you know, more Indian looking.

She watches Puck walk in with a girl she knows- the busty blonde is one of Kurt's friends- an aspiring designer. Her dress is obviously of her own creation- it's so ballerina and edgy at the same time and it plays up every single one of the girl's features with its sweetheart, strapless neckline and mid-thigh length hem, all done up in sparkling silver fabric.

The chick's hair is really blonde. Like yellowish. And her cleavage is distracting him, but not in a good way. Well, if he wasn't with Rachel it would be a good thing. Or wasn't trying to win Rach back, more like it. "Alright, Puck, you are going to start walking to her at my cue. Then there will be a slow song playing and you're gonna ask your girl to dance. Got me?" She hissed into his ear and he widened his eyes, wondering just how the hell many people Kurt is gonna recruit for this.

The lights dim. A spotlight hits her, and for a split-second she really thinks she's gonna get hit by pig's blood. And her psychic powers were in no way in aptitude with Carrie's, so she couldn't go all scary revenge on them… she's startled out of her reverie by the song playing- Miserable At Best, by Mayday Parade. It's one of her favorite non-show tunes.

He reaches a hand out to her and she notices that his face has taken on a humbled, pleading look. He doesn't care who sees now. She takes his hand and melts into his chest. He leads her and her sexy high heels across the floor gently.

It's been too long since he's held her, though in reality she realizes it's only been a few weeks. She basically feels everything falling back into perfect alignment as he pulls her to his chest and they dance. His touch lights her on fire.

"I love you, Rachel Berry," He whispers, so low that no one has any chance of hearing. She almost cries.

"What if you're just saying that? You hurt me, Noah. You… You're a man-whore and I don't know if I'm… if I'm strong enough to change that,"

"Rach, damn it, I don't expect you to be freakin' Wonder Woman. Okay? I want you to be Rachel Hannah Berry, and I want to look at you however I want, whenever I want, and I want to kiss you and touch you love you and someday, in the near future, I want to _make love_ to you. Because you're a hot Jew and I'm a hot Jew, and baby, it's natural," He broke out, still kind of quiet, quoting himself from their relationship, that distinctive phrase. "Plus, I also want to bring you to meet my Ma. You know, official-like. She'll just about die, but I think it'll be a good thing. So whaddaya say? Are you gonna be my girl?"

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a loud, loud scream of pain emitted from the heavily-pregnant blonde ex-Cheerio at the side of the room.

**And that, dear readers of Puckleberry fandom, is how it's done.  
Hugs and Kisses, babies.**


	12. Brighter

**Belle Of The Boulevard  
Chapter 12: Brighter (A Song By Paramore)**

** Disclaimer: I don't own anything, dears. If I did, Glee would be Belle of the Boulevard and we would all have glitzy dresses and hot-shorts all year round. **

All of this, it was leading up to the final moment, the important question. But Quinn Fabray and her impeccable timing (the baby really had to be Puck's, Rachel thought to herself, because it, she, knew how to make a 'badass' entrance) had interrupted it. And from that second forward, Puck and Finn were both next to Quinn, crowding her and being idiots about what she needed- they'd seen far too many clichéd movies.

Finally, Rachel elbowed them violently out of the way, shoving her clutch at Noah and taking the death traps of shoes that Quinn had on, off. Kneeling and assuring the seated girl that it was going to be fine, completely fine; she whipped her cell phone out and tossed it at Finn, snapping for him to call 911.

Honestly, did they think that Quinn was going to disappear into the forest for a few hours with a machete and a blanket and reappear triumphant with a baby? This was most certainly not that occasion, and Rachel doubted that Quinn had the strength and willpower to birth a baby that way. Half-shouting at Quinn to breathe deeply and not push made the Cheerio angry (most likely from the emotions and hormones that were running high.)

"Listen, Man Hands! I'm perfectly fine by myself! Get out of my face!" This had Rachel's expression twist into the classic 'Berry' mode. Eyes huge, lips pursed, posture perfect.

"Shut the hell up! I swear to God that if you start pushing, preggers, I'll kick your ass after this baby is out of you! Now be quiet like a good girl and wait for the damned ambulance!" She hollered, Mercedes-style. All noises ceased and the world stopped as Noah fell in love with Rachel Berry for what felt like the billionth time.

"Okay," Quinn said, chagrined and calmer. When the ambulance finally did come, she held Rachel's hand and insisted that the boys get their cars- Rachel could ride in the emergency vehicle with her.

When they got into the lobby of the hospital where admittance was, they found Rachel and Quinn, the blonde in a wheelchair and swearing up and down and sweating and grimacing. "Now, I don't care that you _have other patients_. My dads are gay and if you refuse to admit this young woman because of her obvious adolescence and any views you may have on the subject, I will have the full force of the American Civil Liberties Union on you faster than you can say _Bristol Palin." _They had apparently caught the last of Rachel's token rant.

The RN looked at her with wide eyes before hurriedly rushing Quinn off to a room, Rachel briskly following. "Dude, she's like, good," Finn muttered, dazed.

"Hell yes. She's a _force of nature,_" Puck responded, as if it should be obvious, before hauling Finn along with him to Quinn's hospital room. The girl was already being helped into a paper gown and when she was on the bed Rachel rolled a pair of thick pink socks on her pale feet.

"Thanks, Rach," Quinn beamed.

"You're very welcome, Q," Rachel returned, grinning right back. Now the boys were quite alarmed- had they missed a turn and showed up in crazy town? But it seemed that Rachel's screaming and later defending of Quinn and the way that Quinn had tearfully apologized in the ambulance had made the girls into insta-friends.

Noah idly wondered if girls were all like that.

A few hours later, Quinn was screaming very loudly and clutching both Finn and Noah's hands while Rachel encouraged her to push and held up one of her knees at the doctor's instruction. "I see the head!" The OBGYN, Dr. Wu, exclaimed. This really was his favorite part of the job.

"Does the baby have a Mohawk?" Noah called cheerfully, making Quinn laugh through her cries.

"No, Noah, no signs of a Mohawk," Rachel reported with a cheeky shrug. "One more big push!" Wu relayed, seeing the tops of the shoulders.

With a loud, loud wail of pain and an increasingly purple face, Quinn managed to get the baby out of her. A half-second later, a strong, healthy wail broke through the room, surprisingly melodical for a newborn, or even a small child.

After the afterbirth was gone and little baby Fabray was in her mother's arms, Rachel pecked both of them on the forehead and slipped out of the room. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she gave it a ragged smile. Her hair was falling out of its knot, she wore scrub pants and a shirt that read "Lima Hospital" in pink with a pair of cheap plastic shoes that hurt her feet.

Her glamour dress was in the car with her heels and the only thing she still had on that was glitzy were the little gold-star hairpins in her dark hair. She sat outside in the dim light of the smoker's area looking out over the dark town that was Lima, Ohio.

"Rough night?" An unforgettable voice asked from behind her. She turned to see Noah, looking exhausted and sad and happy. "The Harrisons came to get the baby. Quinn asked them to name her Hannah, after you." Noah said in a quiet voice, taking a seat beside of her and she leaned her head into his chest.

"It's okay, Noah. It's going to be okay." She whispered, lightly stroking his hair with a slender hand. "And Noah?" She asked suddenly, looking up at him.

"Yeah, baby?" He replied, contemplating the city.

"My answer is yes," With a squeal and a happy shout, two sets of lips meet in the middle and their heads slant this way and that for purchase.

They are together again.

**End Belle of the Boulevard**

** A/N: All of you guys who want a sequel, review for me and I'll decide whether or not to do one. Hopefully this is a good place to end, at least for now. So, click the purple button babies and send all your lovin' to me. **


	13. My Junk

**Epilogue  
My Junk  
By: Sydney Australia**

**A/N: Guys, I'm so sorry. I was so psyched about actually finishing a story longer than ten chapters that I made it kind of… not good. So, I'll leave up the 'sequel' and I might finish posting on it, but it won't be 'canon' Belle of the Boulevard. I'm gonna add this chapter, make it pretty long, and finish up. Sorry for the cookie-cutter end. Rhea Blue, this is for you. Because that's probably the 'meanest' review I've ever gotten. I'm not saying it was a mean review. It kind of just shocked me into action. **

So, it's not all Edward-and-Bella after that. Rachel doesn't dramatically take Noah into her arms and proclaim that she's loved him all along, that she knew he'd come back to her, and that they should now go have sex in a field because she is now sure of her love for him. Of course, had she asked for sexytimes in a field, Puck would've gladly given it to her.

Because he can father a child, he can make a heartfelt apology, he can quote Jet, but he can't deny that his guns are the most badass in town and he's the Lima Sex God. Hell yeah, bitches. The Puckerone is in town.

Rachel doesn't trust him immediately either; she makes him get an STD test, she threatens the Cheerios he's screwed with bodily harm, and she gets his pool-cleaning client list and goes around to every cougar in town and threatens them with statutory rape charges. The whole deal just kind of amuses Noah. His girl is a mini-badass.

Quinn and Finn are together; they hold hands during pep assemblies while Quinn watches her Cheerios flip around the gymnasium. It's sad for all of three months until Sue Sylvester squeezes the blonde back into a uniform and has her running off the baby weight and choreographing routines and screaming at freshmen. She's not quite back to head Cheerio status, but she's close.

She and Rachel aren't best friends, but they hang out occasionally on weekends and once, Rachel went with Quinn to visit Hannah at the Harrisons'. Surprisingly, though, Rachel and Santana become friends. It's shocking to all, really. The Latina (and, subsequently, Brittany, because the blonde Cheerio is always with Santana) sits with Rachel at lunch, tells her honestly if she looks like shit, and helps her pick out lingerie for Noah's eighteenth birthday.

Noah graduates- his mother sobs into Rachel's shoulder during the ceremony and cries that she never thought it would happen. When he gets accepted at Ohio University, his mother faints in shock and Rachel has to revive her with a slap to the face. Fayge Puckerman doesn't mind, though- she actually compliments Rachel on her quick thinking while eyeing her waistline and trying to guess her dress size. Noah and his sister snort with laughter on the couch.

When Rachel graduates with an acceptance to Julliard to study both theater and dance, Noah takes her out to her favorite vegan restaurant in Columbus and slides something across the table at her. No, it's not an engagement ring, thank God, and she picks the letter up delicately, sliding out a piece of paper.

_Dear Mr. Puckerman,_

_ We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to NYU on full musical scholarship…_

After that first sentence, the letter flutters to the table and she stares at him gapingly for a few minutes. He grins and she waves the waitress over, snapping that they'll need their check. He pays; they go out into the parking lot and are barely into his truck before Rachel rugby-tackles him and kisses him with all the ferocity she can muster.

And again, this Animal Planet shit? Hell yeah. He chuckles darkly into the kiss and yeah, they get it on in the parking lot of the hippie restaurant in his non-environmentally-friendly truck. He's got scratch marks on his back the next day to prove it.

Finn and Quinn are going to Ohio University together in the fall- the Frankenteen took a year off to be with his teen queen freshman year of college. Mercedes gets a gig opening up for some girl-power singer in a cross-country tour. Kurt is starting his own line and has an acceptance to UCLA.

The only ones who will be joining them in New York will be Tina and Mike, who got together senior year and have acceptances to Parsons New School of Design and Julliard, respectively.

It's all kind of like a spin-off of _Friends,_ Rachel muses as she and Mike get to the studio early Saturday morning- Matt teaches hip-hop and contemporary and she is Mademoiselle Berry- the ballet instructor to a few of the older dancers. Noah has a job further downtown at Mystic Wisdom recording studios, Tina is sewing a couture gown for Lady Gaga's younger sister to wear to some kind of event.

It's been three years, it's nearing Christmas, and next week there is auditions for a 'New Musical' called Spring Awakening. Rachel's been going over the script- she'll try out for the lead female role, Wendla.

As she warms up at the barre, she hums one of the songs to herself.

"_In the midst of this nothing. This mess of a life.  
Still there's this one thing just to see you go by."_

Outside, it's snowing and a man with short, dark, straight silky hair enters the studio, setting down in the lobby to wait. He's planned a special night tonight- in his pocket there's a ring with a diamond shaped like a star and he's not the type to carry an engagement ring in his pocket waiting for the 'right moment'.

Cause that shit? That's for pansies and whiny little bitches and he'll propose to his woman when he wants to propose to his woman. So, needless to say, he feels like he's gonna vomit and he's had the ring since her birthday in August.


End file.
